


Promise Me This

by Nostalgia-in-Starlight (UniverseEndingParadox)



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 16:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3074672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UniverseEndingParadox/pseuds/Nostalgia-in-Starlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's New Years Eve and Jim's afraid that it might be his last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Promise Me This

**Author's Note:**

> For my grandpa, who passed away earlier this year.

_He said, "Let's get out of this town_  
 _Drive out of the city_  
 _Away from the crowds..."_

 

This may be the last New Years Eve he ever gets to see. He's twenty seven and possibly dying. The bone marrow transplant scheduled for the day after tomorrow is the last resort, and it might not work. 

Jim opens his eyes and blinks blearily up at the all too familiar ceiling of his hospital room. He groans inwardly. When he had imagined his life merely two years ago, he hadn't imagined it coming to this- being stuck in a hospital bed on New Years Eve. Dimly, he's aware of the soft blanket covering his body and of the not quite painful but uncomfortable pinch of the two IV lines in his arm. What's more apparent is the heaviness in his body, the fatigue that he can't seem to get rid regardless of the fact that he's spent the better half of the past two weeks sleeping. These are all sensations he's used to by now. Rolling his head carefully on the pillow, Jim looks towards the window and wishes that he could see more than the building across the street and a tiny sliver of the sky. Behind him, the door creaks open but he doesn't turn to look, knowing instinctively that it's Spock. Soft footsteps approach the bed and Jim sighs a little.

"Spock?" he says, voice barely above a whisper. It's pretty much all he can manage these days. He hears rather than sees Spock move around the bed. 

"Yes, Jim?" Gentle fingers comb through his hair and Jim smiles up at his fiancé in contentment. Spock's eyes are warm with adoration, but there's a faint line of concern between his brows. He tries to hide his worry, but Jim can always tell. The hand in his hair trails down to cup his face, fingers ghosting over his slightly chapped lips in their own version of a kiss- developed when Jim was too sick and the risks of infection were too high for them to kiss mouth to mouth. Jim breathes out a faint sigh and brushes his lips over the palm of Spock's hand. 

"I want to see the fireworks, Spock," he whispers. Spock stares at him for a moment and Jim sighs again as he waits for the inevitable diatribe about why it's not possible. He is therefore entirely surprised when Spock nods in understanding. "Spock?"

A smug expression steals over Spock's face and Jim narrows his eyes. "I have informed Doctor McCoy of this fact," Spock states. 

"What?"

Spock continues, "As our apartment has a relatively unobstructed view of the Bay, he has agreed to let me take you home so that you may witness the display." Jim gapes at him. "If you wish." At Jim's continued silence, Spock's lips tip up in a faint smile. The bastard knows how stunned Jim is.

"Spock, I don't even know what to say." Warm fingers tangle with his and Jim grips them as tightly as he can. "How'd you know?" Instead of an answer, Spock leans down so that their foreheads are touching and presses a tender kiss to his lips. It's exactly the answer Jim needs. 

"I love you," he says when Spock pulls back. "So much." There's a lump in his throat and his eyes are burning, but Jim manages a besotted grin. He doesn't know what he did to deserve Spock.

"As I love you, Jim." Spock's thumb soothes over his cheek; and Jim's slightly confused until he realizes that the burning in his eyes have turned into tears. He sniffles a little and hides his face in Spock's hand, hoping Spock won't comment. "Doctor McCoy will be here shortly. We must get you dressed." 

Jim watches Spock go to the closet and tries not to do something stupid like cry. A large part of him is still overwhelmed by the fact that Spock had somehow managed to know exactly what he was thinking way before he'd even thought about it. Another part of him is afraid that Spock is only going to such lengths because he, too, thinks that this New Years might be Jim's last. Jim doesn't want Spock to share this unvoiced fear. "Spock," he murmurs when Spock's helping him to sit up slowly, "I'm going to be okay."

Spock pauses in helping him dress to look him in the eye. For the first time that night, Jim sees the fear that Spock constantly tries to conceal. "Jim-"

He cuts Spock off with a hand on Spock's face. "I don't want you to be afraid." Spock's lips press into a thin line, confirming Jim's suspicions. Jim reaches out, mindful of the IV lines, and wraps his arms around Spock's shoulders, pulling him into an embrace. Spock returns the gesture, but Jim's heart aches all over again when he feels the carefully controlled strength. It's as if Spock is afraid he might break. "Trust me."

"I do."

"Okay." Jim nuzzles into the crook of Spock's neck and closes his eyes for a bit. Sitting up is wearing him out, but he doesn't want to say anything. He would've chosen to stay like this- safe - but then there's a knock on the door. For a moment, he doesn't want to leave the warmth of Spock's embrace and keeps his eyes closed, breath damp against the skin of Spock's neck. 

Spock's gently pulling away, though, and Jim let's him go. Their fingers intertwine on Jim's lap. "Hey, Bones," he says when he looks up. 

"Hey, kiddo, you up for this?" Bones asks when he approaches the bed. His voice is gruff, but Jim has long since been able to hear the affection in every word. 

Jim doesn't have to consider his answer despite feeling a little worse for wear. "Of course." Spock had planned this. He not going to ruin it...and he really does want to see those fireworks. "Thanks, Bones, for doing this."

"Yeah, thank me when you pass out from exhaustion," Bones grips, pulling on a pair of gloves. Jim grins at the typical response.

"Love you too, Bones," he sing songs. Bones scowls and Jim gets the distinctive impression that Spock wants to roll his eyes. He's still snickering a little when Bones goes to remove the catheters from his hand and arm. It doesn't really hurt, but Spock still squeezes his hand in reassurance. 

"I'm only letting you go because Spock's a stubborn bastard," Bones grumps as he bandages the two IV sites. Jim laughs a little. "I'm not kidding, Jim, this isn't a good idea. If you get sick again we won't be able to do the transplant on schedule."

It's probably best not to argue. Jim nods his understanding. He does know the risks, but if Bones is okaying this, then it's probably not as bad as Bones is trying to make it sound. "Thanks, Bones," he says quietly, sincere. Bones huffs a little but relents, moving to the side to let Spock finish helping him dress. 

"Come right back if you feel short of breath or dizzy, alright?" 

"Yeah." Using Spock's shoulder as leverage, Jim maneuvers himself so that his legs are dangling over the side of the bed. Bones has a wheelchair waiting for him. Normally he'd protest its use, hating the way it makes him feel like an invalid, but Jim knows his limits- contrary to popular belief. He knows that he won't make it far if he tries to walk right now. Just sitting up is making him keenly aware of the heaviness in his body. A glance in Bones's direction gets him a raised eyebrow, as if Bones can tell just by looking at him how tired he feels. Actually, Jim thinks, he probably can. He lets Spock help him move from the bed to the chair and focuses on making his legs support him. 

"Jim?" Spock asks once he's settled in the chair. 

"I'm fine," Jim assures, not quite meeting Spock's eyes. He reaches out and grips Spock's hand in reassurance as Bones tucks a blanket around his shoulders. Spock squeezes his hand once, then moves to wheel his chair out of the room."Let's go home."

~o~

Jim falls asleep on the way home and doesn't wake until he's being gently lowered onto plush cushions. With a content sigh, he snuggles further into the softness surrounding him and almost falls back into sleep. The arms holding him pull away, however, and Jim drags himself back into consciousness. He blinks awake, eyes adjusting to the dim light seconds before he realizes he's alone. "Spock?"

"I am here," Spock says from somewhere behind him. Jim tries to pull himself up on the couch but Spock gets to him before he has a chance to do anything. "Do not exert yourself, Jim. Is there anything you need?" 

Miffed by his inability to move as he wishes, Jim grudgingly lies back on the couch. He offers Spock a faint smile for being wonderful. "Just you, Spock." Even in the dim light, Jim can see Spock’s eyebrow raise.

“I will return shortly,” he says and leaves Jim lying on the couch. Jim snickers softly after him. Though he can be quite the romantic, Spock still feigns embarrassment when Jim is being intentionally _saccharine_ \- as Spock calls it. At least, Jim thinks, he still has a pretty good view from this angle (thanks to the convenient floor to ceiling windows) and therefore has something to look at while he waits for Spock. He can see the Bay from here. It’s dark out, but the lights from the city are enough to illuminate the water. The night is clear. Jim imagines probably half of the population is gathered at the waterfront to see the fireworks. A part of him wishes that he and Spock could be out there as well, but he tells himself that this is already so much more than he had thought possible.

True to his word, Spock returns within a few minutes. He has an armful of blankets and a glass of water in his hand. Jim smiles for real this time. Somehow, Spock always seems to know what he needs even when he didn’t realize he needed them. Without prompting, Spock sets the items down and helps Jim sit up. “How long is it ‘til midnight?” Jim asks, accepting the small glass of water Spock hands him. He takes a few small sips 

“Ten minutes,” Spock answers, settling onto the couch next to him. Jim nods and takes another sip of water before setting the glass aside. He peers out again, but returns his attention to Spock when there’s no sign of the fireworks. Spock is watching him carefully, dark eyes warm with devotion. It’s everything. Jim tells Spock this. He lets himself be pulled into a gentle kiss, sighing in pleasure at the familiar pressure of worshiping lips on his own. The tips of their noses brush when they pull apart and Jim turns so that he can wrap his arms around Spock’s shoulders like he had earlier. 

“Hold me?” he whispers, shifting so that he’s in Spock’s lap. Spock obliges without comment, arms encircling him in love and warmth and protection. Jim hadn’t even realized he was cold. He rests his head on Spock’s shoulder as a hand runs soothingly up and down his back. 

“Thank you, Spock, for everything.” 

Spock presses a kiss into his hair. “You have nothing to thank me for, Jim. However, you are welcome.” They sit like that for several minutes, just relishing in the opportunity to be alone and in their home for the first time in awhile. It’s peaceful, and Jim wishes that it could stay like this; that he didn’t have to go back to the hospital and face a long and painful treatment. He turns his face into the crook of Spock’s neck and breathes in the familiar scent. If he were to die from this disease or from the transplant, he would miss this. 

“I want you to promise, Spock,” he says after a while, pulling back so he can look Spock in the eyes, “that if something were to happen to me you would continue on with your life.”

“Jim-”

“I need you to promise that you’ll be okay.” Jim thinks the shimmer of light in Spock’s eyes might be tears, but Spock never cries. 

“You will get through this, Jim,” Spock says after a beat and it’s not the promise that Jim wants to hear. But he doesn’t want to argue either. They stare at each other for a long moment, unrelenting. Eventually, it’s Spock who looks away first. “I promise to try, _ashayam_ ”. It’s a term of endearment passed down through generations of Spock’s family. He only uses it on very special occasions. Jim supposes that this is one of them.

“Thank you.” It’ll have to be good enough. 

“In return, you must promise to stay for as long as you are able.” 

There’s a lump in his throat again and Jim swallows convulsively against the feeling. His eyes burn, but blinking only makes it worse. “I promise, love,” he says sincerely, “I don’t want to leave you.” He brushes the tips of his fingers over the skin of Spock's face. Spock turns back to him, pained, a moment before pulling him in for a long kiss. Jim closes his eyes to hide the tears threatening to spill over. His hands clutch at Spock’s shirt, fingers tangling in the soft fabric. For a long moment, there’s nothing but the wet slide of tongues and tingling lips and a sort of desperation in the way they hold each other. Then Spock is pulling back and nudging Jim to turn around.

“Look.”

Jim turns his head just in time to see the first round of fireworks explode in the sky, the colors bright and incandescent in the darkness. With Spock’s help, he shifts around so that he’s facing the window, back against Spock’s front. They watch the fireworks in silence, hands intertwined on Jim’s lap. Here in the comfort of Spock’s arms, Jim thinks he _can_ get through this. There may be a long and difficult road ahead in terms of treatment and recovery from everything, but with Spock at his side it might not be so bad. He watches the fireworks lighting up the water and feels an odd sense of peace settle over him. This won’t be the last time he sees them on new years eve. Smiling, he tilts his head back to lean on Spock’s shoulder. 

“Happy new year, Spock.”


End file.
